Chapter 573: Each Team (4)
Chapter 573: Each Team (4)
Minjoon wanted to create a dish that could challenge people’s prejudices, something they couldn’t enjoy anywhere else in the world. Gwen’s straightforward deep-fried cream sparked so many ideas and such desire in an instant. It was the moment he confirmed he was right: even though their cooking skills weren’t superior to his, their simple ideas served as hints for his own growth.
But he had to postpone those thoughts. His duty as a judge came first. He approached Gwen, who was busy making banana purée with cream puffs. He glanced at her work and slowly spoke.
“Avocado and whipped cream alone might not provide enough sweetness. Are you using bananas to add more?”
“Yes, that’s right. I’m trying to bring out the right level of sweetness.”
“Don’t you think it's a bit defensive as cuisine?” he asked. Though vague, this was the only feedback he could offer as a judge.
Seeing her hard expression, he moved on to another team of three chefs.
In fact, Gwen was lucky to receive his feedback at all.
This next team was a different story.
While cooking their own dishes, they interfered with each other’s mediocre attempts, stubbornly clinging to pride as their dishes veered toward ruin.
This was the worst situation he could imagine. As a judge, he was ready to scold rather than softly advise. Of the three judges, scolding was his role now.
As he approached, he hesitated briefly—wondering if his intervention would help or only vent his frustration. If motivated by anger, he needed to restrain himself. This wasn’t about him. If he were a participant, his reaction would differ. As a judge, he had to prioritise their interests.
If I stay silent, I won’t have to think about them and can feel better for now.
But silence meant they’d be eliminated after trying their best. How could feedback change them? Could he turn them into elite chefs overnight? No.
Still, he spoke as he drew near.
“Are you playing around instead of cooking?”
Hearing his icy tone, the arguing group immediately fell silent. They knew his temperament from experience. Kaya may blast out emotion momentarily, and Joseph tries to say positive things, but Minjoon was different. If he disliked something, he’d refute excuses until they admitted fault. No one wanted to defend themselves.
He glanced slowly at Ireland and said, “Other teams have roughly grasped their dishes, but you haven’t even finished the basics. The trash can’s full of failed ingredients. Are you focused? Or is this because you didn’t spend money on ingredients and can waste them like this?”
“Sorry.”
“I’m not asking for your apology. I don’t care if you’re sorry. I want to know if you’re ashamed. What were you thinking when you came to this competition? Robert, start.”
“I wanted to succeed.”
“I like cooking.”
“I thought this was a chance to prove something.”
Each of the three in Gwen’s team answered in turn.
Minjoon’s expression turned cold. “Success, cooking, opportunity—they’re wonderful motives. But when you arrived, you weren’t as ugly as you are now.”
“Well, I don’t want to be ugly.”
“It doesn’t matter what you think. The problem is that your current actions frustrate me to the point I can only sigh.”
Such words coming from him were scarier than any other judge’s—because he usually wasn’t harsh. When the normally friendly, smiling Minjoon suddenly showed coldness, it shattered their preconceptions and gave them goosebumps.
“Remember the basics when you cook. First, make your customers happy. Second, cook with a happy mood. If you can’t handle these basics, your cuisine is ruined. Would you enjoy a dish made by a chef who killed someone last night?”
His exaggeration emphasised how wrong their attitude was. They hung their heads sullenly. Though bound to rebel inwardly—they had pride—they knew trying to protect it here would only have it trampled. So they held their tongues.
“I hope to see you smile when I meet you again.”
After saying this, he turned away.
While he was lecturing, Kaya sat at Gwen’s table and looked at Peter.
“You’re making fish and chips?”
“Uh.”
“You know it’s tough to score points with a homemade dish, right?”
Even Minjoon was nearly eliminated for the same reason. He didn’t fail because his full table was Asian cuisine but because it lacked difficulty.
Fish and chips? He wouldn’t dream of winning with that.
But Kaya didn’t dismiss the dish. Upgrading ordinary recipes into high-end cuisine wasn’t unusual—hundred-dollar burgers were trendy now.
Peter isn’t that stupid.
Peter had Grand Chef experience, so he likely knew survival strategies. And he’d improved, so elimination would be harder.
I also struggled working in a team.
Kaya remembered how desperate she was when she had leaned on Minjoon. Peter must share that desperation now.
Of course, Kaya wouldn’t approach Peter now. She didn’t forget her bad experiences easily and disliked him. As a judge, it would be ridiculous to root for him.
“I look forward to your dish, Peter.”
That was all the support she could give.
Peter said nothing, nodding silently.
The one-hour cooking time was nearly up. Teams avoided checking the clock, focusing all efforts on their dishes.
But as usual, time waited for no one.
“Everyone, hands off. Your cooking time is over.”
When Kaya announced, some looked longingly at their pots and plates. If they touched them again, they’d be disqualified.